She remains silent, her hand warm against my chest, waiting for me to continue.
“Jake didn’t just invite me to stay here after we dealt with Petrova’s men and I got shot. He was worried. I was...” I pause, finding the right words, “I would start to self-destruct again. Drinking too much. Taking risks I shouldn’t have.”
Lana shifts closer, providing comfort as I force myself to keep going.
“There was a mission that went wrong. Horribly wrong. We lost three men—good men with families waiting for them back home. I was the team leader.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers, but I shake my head.
“I made the call. I sent them into that building.” The memories flood back—the explosion, the radio silence, the knowledge that I’d failed them. “After that, I couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t be responsible for more lives. So I quit. A few months later, Mikhail hired me on.”
Her fingers trace patterns on my skin, grounding me in the present. “Is that why you stayed here? To hide?”
“To heal,” I correct her. “Or at least that was Jake’s plan. I just wanted somewhere quiet to fall apart.”
“And have you? Healed, I mean?”
I consider her question carefully. “I’m getting there. Being here has helped. The quiet, the routine.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “And then there was you.”
“Me?” Her voice is soft with surprise.
“You make me want to be better. To be whole again.” I cup her face in my hand. “I don’t want just to survive anymore, Lana. I want to live.”
Her eyes shine in the dim light, and she leans forward to press her lips gently against mine. “Then live,” she whispers against my mouth. “With me.”
We make love again, slower this time, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if memorizing each other. When we finally fall asleep, tangled together beneath the blankets, I feel lighter somehow—as if sharing my burden has made it easier to carry.
I wake sometime in the night to find her trembling against me, her face contorted in the grip of another nightmare. Before I can wake her, she gasps and sits upright, disoriented and breathing hard.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, sitting up beside her. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
She turns to me, recognition dawning in her eyes. “Caleb?”
“Right here.” I open my arms, and she collapses against my chest.
“I dreamed that they found us,” she says, her voice muffled against my skin. “NTM. They had guns, and they were going to—” She breaks off, shuddering.
I stroke her hair, holding her close. “It was just a dream. We’re safe. Armed men are patrolling the entire perimeter.”
She nods but doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “It felt so real.”
“Dreams often do.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “Just hold me for a while?”
I settle back against the pillows, keeping her cradled against me. “As long as you need.”
Eventually, her breathing evens out, and she falls back asleep. I lie awake, listening to the occasional sounds from below—horses shifting in their stalls, the mother cat purring somewhere nearby, the wind outside making the barn creak and settle.
My radio sits within reach, silent for now. The security teams are rotating shifts throughout the night, but so far, there have been no reports of suspicious activity. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something is coming—that we’re in the calm before a storm.
888
We awake at dawn and begin preparing for the day ahead. I watch Lana dress, memorizing the graceful movements of her body, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when concentrating.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
“Just appreciating the view,” I reply with a smile that makes her laugh.
